Words
by Yondaime Namikaze
Summary: [SIDE-PROJECT] A collection of one-shots-each chapter is a stand-alone story based on one word. First story: "This".


**Another story for which I have no idea how it came to be. I guess I just thought of it one day while I was working. Each chapter will be based on one word—only one word per chapter. Like my story collection "Songs", each chapter is its own separate and complete work. **

**SUGGESTIONS FOR WORDS (ONE PER CHAPTER, RECALL) ARE WELCOMED!**

**For the first story, I felt it best to start with the obvious…so here it is!**

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><p><span>This<span>

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was the most unusual Viking that the isle of Berk had ever seen. From the time he could crawl, he had been different…or so was said by all the older Vikings who lived on the island. Physically, the boy was small, much smaller than the normal Viking youth. At first, everyone overlooked this; the boy had entered the world early and had not had enough time to bulk up to the usual size for a newborn boy. As the boy aged, though, they soon realized that the boy was far smarter than any other Viking his age. In a society where brawns always beat brains, boys like Hiccup were frowned upon by everyone who lived there.

As the village youth aged and bulked up in size, Hiccup grew in age, but remained small. It was not long before Hiccup was deemed an outcast among those living in Berk. No one would associate with him for fear of being branded as an outcast themselves. Even his own father, the Chief of Berk, put the village before his own son. The boy never seemed to let these things get to him, though. Despite the deprivation of friendship, Hiccup remained carefree and inquisitive, always on the move and studying the world around him.

Yes, Hiccup was the most unusual Viking ever and that is why he became the twisted punchline to every joke (even if he didn't know it). He would hear the whispers as he walked through the village. It wouldn't be until Hiccup was about aged ten when he would finally learn the whispers all meant.

It was afternoon on a cold and windy winter day when Hiccup, for the first time ever, really stopped to listen to the whispers spoken around him. He had been trying (and, ultimately, failing) to help out his father by sorting baskets of fish at the docks and transporting them to the Great Hall for tonight's dinner. The baskets were filled to the brim and extremely heavy, but Hiccup did not want to disappoint his father—not when he was trying so hard to make the man happy.

Hiccup quickly found that he could not lift the heavy basket so he tried dragging it. All he succeeded in doing was slipping and falling down onto his butt on the cold hard ground. The basket moved not an inch. Undeterred, little Hiccup picked himself back up from the ground and ran to the other side of the basket. _**If I can't pull it**_, he reasoned, _**I'll just have to push it.**_ Slamming his shoulder into the basket, all Hiccup managed to do this time was knock it over and spill the gathered fish everywhere. As if the Gods could not just be satisfied with this, the momentum caused Hiccup himself to topple over the basket and land facedown into the spilled pile of soggy fish. Now, in additional to the shoulder pain, he could not get the nasty stench of fish out of his noise. _**Well…this stinks.**_

Around him, the snickers from the other Vikings working on the docks were heard instantly. Just when Hiccup thought this situation could not possibly get any worse, he picked himself up from the ground and looked across the dock to see his cousin Snotlout Jorgenson laughing about it with his father, Spitelout. _**Great…**_

Father and son walked past Hiccup as they moved to complete some other task. They whispered and laughed between themselves but, as they passed Hiccup, the shunned boy heard every soft word. He pretended (the way that he always did) that he had not been listening, but the words still hurt as he replayed them again and again in his head. "Bulk up, Son. You don't want to end up like…this."

888

Years passed and the words Hiccup had heard on that day remained in the back of his mind, forgotten temporarily with the passing days. The dragon raids continued, becoming worse and worse with each year.

The sounds from tonight's raid had woken 15-year old Hiccup who'd immediately run down the stairs from his room to open the front door and look outside. Almost instantly, Hiccup had to shut the door again as a nearby Monstrous Nightmare noticed and shot flames his ways. "Dragons…" he breathed out, hoping to calm his shaky nerves. Even after all these years, he still grew scared, lacking the bravery all his fellow Viking tribe members exhibited.

As soon as he could, Hiccup slipped out the charred front door and ran toward the blacksmith's shop where he was apprenticed. On his way, he dodged many of the fighting Vikings. How he wished that he could be just like them, but he couldn't lift an axe…or swing a hammer…or throw a bola. He was pretty much useless…just like everyone had been saying since forever.

Arriving at the shop, Hiccup was forced to endure Gobber's quips about his size._** I know I'm small, but becoming a dragon's toothpick? That's pretty low… **_Still, Gobber was Hiccup's father's best friend, but sometimes the blacksmith felt more like a father to the boy than his own.

The shouting of orders from outside caught Hiccup's attention and he leaned out further, watching as the other kids his age rushed by with buckets of water. _**Gods, I wish I could be on the water brigade like them. Their job is so much cooler.**_

Gobber must've noticed what his apprentice was doing because Hiccup felt himself lifted up and away from the window by the back of his shirt. _**Oh, come on…**_ Hiccup pleaded desperately to Gobber, asking him allowance of just two minutes to go out and kill a dragon.

The blacksmith did not oblige and, instead, reminded Hiccup of all his physical flaws. _**As if I needed to hear all this again. **_When Gobber reminded Hiccup (again) that he could not throw a bola at the flying dragons, the boy jumped at the opportunity. "Yes," he agreed, "but this will throw it for me." Hiccup had fashioned this machine to throw bola weapons and he just knew that it would work.

It did work…a little too well. With just one small touch on the wood, Hiccup's creation launched the weapon. Gobber just barely had time to dodge and the bola smacked another Viking right in the face, knocking him out instantly.

"See, this right here is what I'm talking about!" Gobber replied, exasperated.

"Mild calibration issue," Hiccup tried to explain.

"No. If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all…this," Gobber told him, gesturing to his apprentice.

"You just gestured to all of me!"

"Yes, that's it!" Gobber explained. "Stop being all of you!"

_**I'll show you that I can handle myself out there!**_ "You, sir, are playing a dangerous game…keeping this much…raw vikingness contained. There will be consequences!" Hiccup yelled out, making himself look as big as humanly possible.

"I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now."

Gobber dropped a dull sword into Hiccup's arms and the boy almost collapsed under its weight. _**Well that's really helping me to convince Gobber that I can handle myself out there**_, he thought sarcastically.

The sword scraped against the grinding stone and Hiccup steadied it as he'd been trained. _**One day I'll get out there…**_

888

"You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning."

Hiccup wanted to scream out that he no longer wanted to train with the other kids to kill dragons. Earlier that day, he had gazed deep into the eye of the Night Fury he had downed. In the dragon's eyes, he had seen himself—a being that, deep down, was frightened, yet put on a tough front because that was the only way it had ever known.

In a desperate attempt to change his father's mind, Hiccup sprouted on and on about how he'd rather train to be a bread-making Viking or a small home repairs Viking, but his father would have none of it. Stoick dropped a heavy axe into his son's hands and it took all Hiccup's strength to keep from falling to the ground.

_**He's not getting it.**_ "I don't want to fight dragons," he practically whined, but nothing would convince his father.

"Come on! Yes, you do!"

_**Maybe I had, but not anymore**_. "Rephrase. Dad, _I can't kill dragons_!"

"But you will kill dragons!"

"No, I'm pretty extra sure that I won't," Hiccup continued to argue.

"It's time, Hiccup."

"Can you not hear me?"

Clearly not… Hiccup wanted to bury himself as he heard his father tell him about how he, by carrying this axe, would walk and talk and think like the other Vikings.

"No more of…this."

Hiccup rolled his eyes and slumped slightly. "You just gestured to all of me."

"Deal?"

"This conversation is feeling very one-sided…"

"Deal?" Stoick pressed.

Hiccup knew that he had no other answer. With a sigh, he replied, "Deal."

888

As it happened, Hiccup had been right about the dragons. They attacked and ravaged Berk because they were scared. The Vikings had been too dead-set in their 300-year-old tradition to just attempt to figure out why the dragons kept coming back to pillage their land.

Now they understood…and it had only cost Hiccup a leg to make it happen. Hiccup did not know how he had gotten back to Berk from Dragon Island. He just remembered waking up after an unknown amount of time and finding Toothless in his house.

The surprises hadn't even stopped there. Walking (with Toothless's support) to the door, Hiccup had been surprised to find a new Berk, one that welcomed dragons. It was all so surreal; Hiccup thought that he must've died when he had been knocked from Toothless's saddle.

His father had joined him then, giving him a pat on the shoulder and asking for his thoughts on all that he was seeing. Hiccup had no time to answer before others in the village noticed and race up to see him. Never before had they been this excited to see Hiccup; he didn't know how to take it.

"Turns out all we needed was a little more of…this," Hiccup's father spoke again.

"You just gestured to all of me," Hiccup answered automatically. Unlike all the other times Hiccup had heard this word, it no longer felt like a jeer. His father's voice held so much admiration that Hiccup felt overcome with happiness.

Gobber appeared next, revealing that he had created the new leg on which Hiccup now stood. When asked if the leg would do, Hiccup replied simply that he "might make a few tweaks", earning him pleased laughter from those gathered.

The next person to appear was Astrid and she made her presence known with a swift punch to Hiccup's shoulder. Unprepared, Hiccup tripped slightly, crying out more in surprise than pain.

"That's for scaring me," Astrid told him, stating the reason why she had punched him.

"What? Is it always going to be this way, cause…"

Astrid kissed Hiccup, instantly halting his words. The murmurs among the crowd didn't matter. In Hiccup's world, it was just him and Astrid. When they broke apart, Hiccup finished what he was going to say, amending it just a bit. "I could get used to it."

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><p><strong>This ends story one! Remember that each story (chapter) features a different word and stands on its own. <strong>

**I don't know why this chapter was so hard for me to write. Took me several sittings and I was stuck mostly on the opening. Once it came together, though, it was much easier to get this story written. **

**Also, I wrote this at school, so I did not have a copy of the movie for the later scenes. I did my best, but it's been awhile since I've watched the movie. I'll watch it again on Christmas Eve when it's on TV.**

**Suggestions are accepted! Only one word per chapter, please! **

**Hope you enjoyed and I'll talk with you all again next time. Thank you all for reading and supporting Words!**

**Posted: December 17, 2014**


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